star fish

Staying true to form, we amped up as the trip began to wind down.

The first week in Kolkata we slept away. The second we continued to do our volunteer thing and lay low. The third week we settled into our routine and enjoyed our time. Week four we found New Light and week five we went Mach 4,000.

Forrest Gump said life was like a box of chocolates. I agree, but this trip was more like a puzzle than a box of chocolates. So any experiences fit intricately with others either by leading to new experiences or preparing us for them. At the end of this journey it will be fascinating to look at the full story picture that was created. Plus...life in India can't be a box of chocolates: after t minus 8 seconds in humid Kolkata there would be one melted chocolate blob.

We volunteered with our little people in the mornings, read in the New Light office for two or so hours and then volunteered at Kalighat from 3-5. Generally.

Monday was a normal day as described. We decided to branch out and go somewhere new for dinner. The Blue Sky cafe came highly recommended: it is in the tourist part of town (Sudder street) which we generally avoid; we don't like to be considered nor associated with tourists 😉. This place has a plethora of options and is renowned for being safe food.

The prices were fair, food good and ambiance/atmosphere mediocre. We clearly eat earlier than the other foreigners because when we were finished and simply sitting while pondering, boatloads of foreigners entered.

Two such foreigners we were excited to see: Rhonda (from Mexico) and Judith (from Hungary). They're older. We like them. Judith we met on our first day at Kalighat way back in the beginning of July. At break that day I learned that she was hoping to get into New Light. I got pretty excited because I knew of that organization and was hoping to connect with them as well. Since that day, July 8, we didn't see her again...until Monday night at the Blue Sky. As it turns out she got into New Light and was working at a school, a third one, a different then one that either Teresa or I was at. She was in the heart of Sonagachi: Kolkata's red light district.

Sonagachi became a recurring theme this week so I'll take some time now for context. Note: this is from memory of various conversations; do not regard this as absolute truth. Sonagachi is Kolata's red light district and it is said to be the largest red light district in Asia (although I'm quite sure there is at least one in Thailand that trumps it, but we'll move on from this detail). Sonagachi is about 1 square kilometre in size with an estimated 10,000 prostitutes. Many women are involved in the industry because their mothers and grandmothers have been; it's all they know. Many women are trafficked from poor, rural parts of India as well as from Nepal and Bangladesh. No story is identical but a trend is either: 1) families are so poor they sell their daughters to survive 2) they send their daughters with someone who promises them a job in Kolkata and the middle man, in turn, sells them for profit or the girl works and sends some money home to the family. The overwhelming theme is that people do not wake up one day and say, "I want to be a prostitute". The high majority of clientele in Sonagachi is Indian. The 2004 Oscar winning film, "Born into Brothels" (on Netflix) is filmed in Sonagachi. It tells the story of children in these brothels. I used to show this film to my students when I taught Social Justice and it was very interesting for it to come alive again as I experienced this place.

Judith left Kalighat because there were too many volunteers and she chose to help out at a school in the depths of Sonagachi instead. It was interesting that all three of us were at 3 different New Light schools. At the restaurant as she described her school, Star Fish, I was drawn to it. Teresa and I decided we would leave our two schools a bit early tomorrow, Tuesday, and visit her at Star Fish, in the depths of Sonagachi.

In the late morning we hopped on the Metro to head to Girish Park station to visit Judith. That morning Teresa told her teacher what we were doing, which caused angst, panic and worry. "Is anyone taking you? You're going alone? No one is guiding you? That area is very dangerous" etc... Duly noted. We aren't ignorant or cavalier. We are aware of where we're going, but we also aren't at all afraid, worried or hesitant. We never assume the worst; if we did, we wouldn't travel.

We got off the subway and instantly I had a different sense. Not fear, but intrigue and desolation. It was noon and there were many women standing against walls, and this was the main, busy street. Many men looked at us. (Note: in our previous Indian experience some men looked but it really is rare here). I can't confidently judge the message of their eyes: perhaps it was intrigue, confusion, fear for us, longing, wondering or surprise. Regardless, it didn't phase me: I had purpose there and when I have purpose it is time for a head up, shoulders back, focussed walk approach. We asked a police officer where to turn (we can't look like we don't know where we're going to too many people) and we found ourselves turning left into a side street. More women. One in a green saree I specifically noticed; her eyes drew me in.

Above a doorway to a seemingly decrepit building we saw a sign for a place for street children. The door man tried to draw us in, but it wasn't the place we were looking for. Hopefully they really have other volunteers coming. 

We walked further down the narrowing side street, paying attention to absent and obscure addresses. "Rachael! Teresa!" we heard. Judith spotted us and invited us in.

The room was exactly as she had described: dark, dingy, small and full of little people. The room New Light uses for Star Fish doubles as a night club of sorts so it is not decorated for children. Bare walls. Bare everything. But there were 20 or so thrilled, energetic children. Overall they were older than the little people at our other two schools. There were some super littles but some who were over 10 as well. They flocked to us: fresh blood. We are pretty good entertainers so we found our niche immediately. Even as they were eating we were practicing simple numeracy and literacy skills...and at one point we taught them how to dab. Pretty hilarious, but also thought-provoking. So often when I travel the local children will bust out the mainstream (or recently mainstream) North American fad and reenact it to impress us, the North Americans. I found it fascinating that none of these children knew what a dab was, not any of the older children even. It isn't a new idea back home. This, to me, tells a story on what these kids have access to: not much. 

I could see how Judith fell in love with this place. Although only there for a short time, it became quickly evident that these children had some innocent, explorative joy to share. Many were eager to learn, or show what they knew, and all were eager for attention. It is easy to give attention to those that demanded and ensured it. It is more of a challenge to give attention to those that sit on the periphery either waiting for or avoiding it. I think we did a good job of both.

The room seemed sadly representative of the lives of these little people (again, making sweeping generalizations and mammoth assumptions). These children live in this neighbourhood. Given the fact that there are 10,000 sex workers in a one square kilometre space, with no high rises present, I can only imagine the cramped, compact, dark, dreary and, I daresay, dreadful existence of these children. It was at this school, one of these children, whom I wrote about previously: a 7 year old girl who was raped this past July. Raped by a 16 year old neighbour. She is petite. This is their world.

When we first met with Urmi, the founder of New Light, she talked about these schools being safe places for the children. She said their neighbourhoods were dangerous. That is why New Light exists. I got it then. I understand it now. 

This dingy, cramped, overcrowded, dark space is New Light.

It is Maslow's heirarchy of needs from his "Theory of Motivation" in a nutshell. Physiological needs are to be met first (food, air, water and also clothing and shelter). Once these needs have been met, safety needs take precedence. After these two levels are relatively satisfied then the focus is on love and belonging (we don't even need to discuss the next two levels of esteem and self-actualization, that's beyond the scope of this experience).

Judith, Teresa and I aren't changing the world at Kalighat or at our little people schools. But we are contributing to something. I'm a firm believer that any time unconditional love is shared, this is good. I believe that experiencing love, even when that giver is there for a short time, is worth it. The hole left in absence is better than not knowing that hole could exist.

I looked but couldn't see the lady in the green saree on the way out. Maybe she had to make lunch. Maybe she went to a new spot. Or maybe she found some work.